At times, we can become a little lost. Perhaps, distracted by the fast pace of responsibility. This effect can lead to a blinding sense of something that had once been piercingly clear. In my case, I lost perspective on the most cherished and important practice of my life: showing up.

Spending time in Nature can be healing, rejuvenating and deeply rewarding if only you are present to connect with it. What I mean to say, is that the benefits of being in the Natural world can penetrate the deepest parts of self a little easier if you weren't also on your iPhone.

After spending much of the Spring and Summer running around from one responsibility to the next, juggling work, home repair, travel, gardening and a seemingly endless "to-do" list, I found that when I was able to spend time in the woods, I had a terribly difficult time connecting to it. As if, some sort of cable was cut or unplugged leaving me without access to the restorative connection to the Wilderness that I hold so dear.

Of course there had been no cable cutting to limit my access to Nature. My feeling of disconnect wasn't due to an external force at all. It was all on me. Unfettered, 24/7 access to the Wild outdoors is available to everyone, you just have to show up to feel it.

This was the first time in memory that I felt totally disconnected in an environment that I considered to feel more like home than most houses. I long to be outdoors where there is no other human presence, allowing space for the animals who call the forest home to move through their day un-alerted. It's a privilege to become so still and connected that no other animal notices you- and if they do, they are not scared off. The woods can become so quiet, one can hear the wing beats of a low flying Raven overhead. One of my favorite sounds in the forest is the way rustling leaves of a tree can mimic the sound of rain.

All of this relates to hunting, directly and indirectly. Being in the woods while distracted does not afford me the space to truly be present and honor the animals I harvest. That's not the kind of energy I wish to foster. Being present to learn from Nature is far more rewarding, and in my opinion, more respectful. It's a reflection of the kind of role I want to play in this world. If I am to harvest the life of another animal, I will do so after spending much time connecting to the world we are all a part of.

That was what was bothering me most about the feeling of disconnect. Along with the disconnect were the feelings of impatience and irritation. I was impatient waiting for a deer who would walk up, willing to sacrifice everything for me. I felt like such an asshole.

That was a clear indicator that I needed to step back, take a break and reflect on why all of this is so important to me. Why I hunt my food as opposed to buying it in a store? Why I feel so at home in the forest? And then I rembered Just how connected we all are. I remembered how deeply sacred time in the woods really is. The connection I feel to the woods and animals I hunt is the biggest reason I became a hunter in the first place.

The next time I go into the woods, it will be without an agenda. I will go there simply to share sacred space, connect, learn and heal. I am the deer and the wind through the trees and the raven's wing beats. I am grateful.

As a hunter who hasn't purchased meat from a grocery in more than 3 1/2 years, I can definitively say, access to safe hunting land is gold.

In in the past, my options were limited to crowded public land or permission to be on private land that's located 2 1/2 hours from my home. Private land is way safer and I have a much higher success rate because I'm the only hunter out there. The only problem is the long distance limits the amount of time I can devote to being in the field.

Virginia Whitetail: a majestic creature to which I owe much gratitude.

Outdoor Access is a platform that connects private land owners and hunter. More accurately, it's not just for hunters. This program can be used to book private land for all sorts of outdoor uses like hiking, fishing, camping, ATV riding, paintball, picnics etc. That is indeed awesome, but for the purposes of this post, I'm going to stay focused on hunting.Basically, I go online to www.outdooraccess.com and search for private land near me that meets my needs. For whitetail season in the rut, I may pick one property while Springtime gobbler hunting may require a different location.

Each property comes with topo maps, satellite image and property boundaries so you always know where you are (even when sneaking into the woods during pre-dawn hours).They require a background check to become a member, but let's face it, that is a wise and necessary precaution.This season is going to be a whole new ball game. I'm going to have a world of access to fertile hunting grounds closer to home and without competition. Outdoor Access may prove to be the single biggest advantage I have to help me ensure a successful hunting season to fill my freezers this year.

Open Deer hunting season closed here in Virginia back in early January. For someone like me, if I don't harvest enough Deer meat to last my family and me a whole year during the season, we go without. That is exactly what happened this year. Between my big hunting trip to Alaska and moving out to the Mountains, I simply couldn't get out in the field enough to increase my odds of stocking up.

I met someone recently who asked me if I feel sad killing animals. For me, the answer is complicated.

The moment before pulling a trigger or releasing a bow string, I experience a feeling akin to the moment before jumping into icy water. The knowing that "I can't undo this" and that the consequences are very real is enough to take my breath away. I'm then momentarily greeted by the ever present reminder that if I don't kill, I don't eat. It's enough to push me through the feelings of adrenaline, apprehension, and anxiety. With the Deer in my sights, I say a silent prayer for the animal thanking it for its sacrifice and also that my aim is true. My focus sharpens, I breathe, let go, and fire knowing that I can't undo this.

As the Deer's life wanes and returns to Nature, I offer it thanks and tobacco, hold my hand against its chest feeling the last shallow rise and fall of its lungs and beat of its heart. In this moment, I am overwhelmed by emotion. Intense grief and gratitude often compete for space within me with such fullness I have little room to process my thoughts. Grief is of course the direct result of the Deer's death...it's entirely because of me and there is no escaping that fact. It is a heavy, somehow sticky feeling. Like no matter how many times I wash the blood from my hands, there will always be blood on my hands. It's the gratitude however, that brings me to tears. It's the dominant emotion that grips my heart and forces me to deeply feel an undeniable connection to the Deer who died so that I can live.

For those of you who have never had the experience of hunting for your own food, it's tough to explain exactly how significant each and every meal becomes. Without the sacrifice of Deer, I wouldn't have meat to live off of. Sure, I could go to the store to buy meat, but those animals had to die too and I would completely miss out on the direct connection to the Deer and opportunity to honor it, to connect with the environment and each meal I eat.

For me, there is also pride in being a hunter. It comes from spending countless amounts of time and energy practicing aim, learning animal behavior, stalking into the woods and ultimately honoring the animal with a clean, swift death so that I do not have to pay someone else to do the "dirty work" for me. It allows be to be directly responsible for my own karmic debt.

After not harvesting enough venison for the year, I was looking into alternatives. Maybe I can take another crack at hunting wild hogs in Florida? Perhaps I can buy an animal from someone who lovingly raised it for meat and process it instead? Then the answer appeared. There has been new regulation allowing for an extended "Urban Archery" Deer season in many localities across Virginia. Just to clarify up front, before anyone gets concerned about archers roaming the streets of their cities, this is only permissible on PRIVATELY owned lands. Thankfully, I have been granted private landowner permission to bow hunt for antlerless Deer on their property in an attempt to fill my freezer. I cannot begin to express my gratitude to them and will share the venison if I am so fortunate to harvest one.

This season exists in an effort to control the Deer populations in areas where there are no real predators to keep their numbers in balance. Not to mention, the high level of Deer related vehicle accidents in urban and suburban areas is a serious and dangerous problem.

If by hunting in these areas I can acquire enough meat to feed my family until next October and in the process help manage populations where it's needed, then despite the inherent difficulties, I am honored and grateful to participate.

So to answer that woman's question about feeling sad killing animals. Yes, I do, and so much more.

Since I was a young girl, I have always found what made me happiest was found outdoors. I mean, the Great Outdoors. Growing up in a suburb of New York City made me appreciate every exquisite moment of my woodland experiences and made them even more important to me. That's how it felt, important. Even at an early age, I knew that being in nature was special. I used to pick up individual rocks and study their color and content, trying to imagine which mountain they were once part of. I'd wonder what the song birds were singing to one another. That love of wilderness and sense of curiosity stayed with me for my whole life.

Through the following years, I had some wonderful adventures in wild lands all over the country and sort of felt like I was a guest. I kid from New York, visiting the woods. Don't get me wrong, my experiences were exciting, peaceful, challenging, educational and I loved every minute of it. But it wasn't until later in life that I found a kind of connection to the wilderness that I never could have foreseen.

It was just before I turned 32 that I decided that I wanted to be responsible for the meat that I was eating. I wanted to learn from and honor the animals instead of paying for meat neatly wrapped in a package that came from who knows where and slaughtered who knows how.

First however, I need to preface this with a clear statement. We all have our personal truths. Choosing to be an ethical hunter in order to feed myself and my family is my personal truth. I am in no way trying to condemn those who do not share my perspective, rather simply give you insight into how I personally feel about ethical hunting and how the practice of pulling the trigger to fill my freezer has changed my life for the better.

So there I was, with an idea of what I wanted and no experience whatsoever. Did I mention I grew up outside of New York City? Rifles were not possessed in my house growing up and no one in my family was a hunter. I decided to buy a gun and become as proficient as I could in order to make the cleanest, most humane shot possible. I remember thinking to myself, "I want to be as familiar with this rifle as I am with my iPhone." I meant, I wanted to instinctively know every function, its weight loaded and unloaded and be able to operate the safety and the trigger with such confidence that I would be less likely to fudge the whole thing if adrenaline got the better of me. I didn't know what to expect, I'd never been hunting before! I took every class, clinic and course I could register for. I practiced my heart out because I knew that I had to do my due diligence for the sake of the deer that I would later hunt. I remember at that time, my greatest fear in walking down this path was wounding the deer and having it suffer. I was horrified at the thought. That fear drove me to take learning how to shoot, track and listen extraordinarily seriously. I knew that this too was important.

The day came when hunting season opened. I was ready. With an open mind, an open heart and no expectation, I drove my truck to the hunting grounds and walked toward the woods. I stalked into the dark woods during the pre-dawn hours grateful for the light of the bright full moon. The sound of the frozen ground and frosted leaf litter crunched softly under my footsteps. To me, it sounded as loud as a freight train. Perhaps the only thing louder in that forest was the beating of my own heart pounding in my chest.

I walked a long way, probably a mile in the dark before the first signs of a lightening sky began to change the shade of the now, just visible horizon line. I settled into a patch of mountain laurel on the left bank of a dried up ravine and waited. I waited for hours while my toes began to ache from the cold despite that the sun had risen clear into view. I felt tired from the cold and now that much of my early boost of adrenaline had faded, so had I.

I laid down in the freshly fallen leaves beside the mountain laurel and breathed deeply. The kind of breathing when you are in a deep restful sleep. I must have been laying down for three or four minutes when it felt as if someone's hands grabbed my by the shoulders to shake me awake and say," Get up! Rifle ready!". So that's just what I did, and with my heart pounding and wondering," what in the world was that?!" I heard a rustle.

I looked to my left and saw the flicker of a white tail walking up the same ravine I had traveled in hours earlier, in my very own tracks. I slowly raised my scope to get a better view and saw this deer had antlers. I didn't count how many points and didn't care. I just knew that the moment I had imagined and trained for so long was right here.

As he approached I took aim at the top corner of his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The following moment was one that was so filled with detail, action and emotion it can be difficult to organize in a slow motion understanding. I remember that he bolted into the nearby pine trees for about 20 yards. Although I was sure I'd hit him, I didn't even hear my own rifle go off. Only when I got up from my place in the laurels had I realized that I shot him from no more than 10 yards away. I made my approach to this deer and stood beside him in the moments of his last breath and began to cry. I cried not because of sadness but because of extreme gratitude. This magnificent eight point buck died so that I can feed myself and my family.Although I was hunting alone, I thanked him out loud. I called him "The Prince of the Forest" because of his majestic shape and large antlers. I worked quickly to gut him, saving all the organ meat I could use and leaving the rest for the other inhabitants of the forest. I tied a rope around is antlers and pulled him out of the woods 20 paces at a time for a mile back to my truck. The Prince of the Forest out weighed me by a good 20 pounds or so and made me work hard to take him out of that forest. It felt right to work that hard to harvest a precious life like that. For whatever reason, It felt like another way to show my appreciation for the gift that was given to me.

I used every part of that deer. He fed me and my family for more than a month. I brain-tanned his hide, saved his sinew for sewing projects and made dog treats out of the organ meats. Every little piece was precious and treasured. I'd never had that kind of relationship with a store bought steak and was profoundly grateful for the perspective I had gained. In the moment that I watched the deer's last breath leave his body, he gave me something more than his life. He gave me a kind of understanding and connection that I had never experienced. A connection to him, to the wilderness, to the many animals in the forest and to my own path. In that moment, I knew that I was put on this earth to be a hunter and I was taking my place in this world.

After nearly a year of planning, I finally made it to Alaska to hunt, explore and test myself in the last Great Wilderness.

Although I had originally intended to hunt Caribou in the high Arctic Tundra, plans changed and I wound up going on a solo drop hunt on Kodiak Island seeking Blacktail Sitka Deer.

Since my shelter, food and safety gear were already taken care of in my original plans, I needed to rethink my packing priorities. For a solo drop hunt, I had to pack all my food, shelter, safety equipment and hunting gear into the field with me. Additionally, the weather was calling for 30 degree temperatures, rain and lots of wind.

In this post, I will describe the kind of gear and safety equipment I would need and packed in to the field and my experience putting it all together.

I planned to be dropped off on Kodiak Island with a .243 caliber rifle (used for Deer hunting, not for Bear defense) because my larger rifle needed to be sent back to the factory for tuning just days before my trip. I was very grateful that my bush pilot, Erik promised to equip me with a Sat phone, Bear spray and an electric bear fence which I could use around my gear/meat tent.

My tents are only rated for 3 seasons but seeing as how I would not be facing Arctic cold, I figured it would work out alright. I elected not to bring my dad's sidearm because I was assured by both of my pilots that the bear spray and electric fence would serve as adequate bear defence and decided to let go and trust their expertise.

I must admit, even after all the time spent planning, I was feeling underprepared and that nothing I could do or pack could ready me for what lay ahead. It was go time, ready or not.

With my stomach cluttered with butterflies, I set off for Alaska. Once my plane got close to Anchorage, I saw my first glacier! This trip was going to be epic, whether I was prepared or not.

Upon landing at the small Kodiak airport, something incredible happened. I met a fellow hunter named, Jerry staying at my hotel. He and his companions joined me on the airport shuttle and we started discussing our respective hunting plans. Once he learned that I was hunting solo in Brown Bear country with only a deer rifle and bear spray, he insisted that I take his sidearm. It is a very large caliber hand gun used for bear defense. At first, I declined his offer, not wanting to take this man's weapon. Then I stood in front of a mounted Brown Bear in the lobby of the hotel who's head was as big around as the lid on an oil drum. "OK. I'll buy it from you." , I said. He refused, "Absolutely not. I don't need the money, I've been very blessed." he said. I continued to plead with him to let me pay for it when finally he said, "Not another word. I'll be in a cabin with other people who have extra guns. Take it and you be safe out there, young lady."

He literally gave me a brand new pistol, just like that. Words can not discribe the generosity and concern this man showed me and I will forever be grateful to him. Indeed, I was the one who was blessed.

Later that morning, I met up with Erik who outfitted me with the Sat phone, Bear spray and electric fence. He loaded my gear on the bush plane, told me to climb up, strap in and get ready to fly!

Once we were airborne and I saw the terrain, I knew this trip was truly going to be a test of physical, emotional and psychological strength. In fact, I distinctly remember thinking, "These lands are going to kick my ass."

We spotted two large herds of Caribou and looked for a safe place to land. I still had the Caribou hunting tag and thought I could double my chances if I happen to get close to them. It's tricky business getting close to Caribou. You can locate them by plane and land nearby, however because of Alaska's no hunt/fly law, you are required to wait for 24hrs after landing to hunt. This applies to many species in Alaska but not for Sitka Deer.

Erik landed the plane on a small lake and dropped me off at a remote location on the Island. Once he flew away, I could immediately sense how completely out of my depth I really was.

It was 30 degrees with CONSTANT 25mph wind on freezing wet Tundra terrain. For those of you who have never experienced walking in the Tundra, it is akin to walking uphill on empty cardboard boxes. Wet, cold, unstable cardboard boxes. After just a few hours into my arrival, my ultralight hip waders were torn and punctured leaving my boots waterlogged and freezing. Man, do I have a colorful gear review for that product!

It took me the better part of 4 hours to hike in and set up my camp against raging wind and cold. My camp included two separate tents 50 yards apart. One where I would sleep and the other to store my gear and any meat harvested. Both had to be anchored down with excessive amounts of para cord and tent stakes. I was told to tie them off to the biggest rocks I can find. The snag of course being that there are no rocks. Just huge rolling piles of spongy wet moss. So, I did the best I could and made sure that my wallet and Sat phone were on me at all times because if my tent went rolling across the open Tundra like a tumble weed, there would be little hope of getting it back easily.

At this stage, my boots were totally soaked but still plyable. I expected by morning they would be good and frozen solid. Still, I was able to get both tents set up and was erecting the electric bear fence. A few important things to note: First, it was evident that this fence had seen a lot of miles and was clearly jacked up. Many of the poles were broken and several wire supports were missing but I still managed to get it set up around my gear tent. The final step of instructions read, "connect the ground and hot wire to the energizer to deliver the current." I searched through the bag. "What wires?!" In the bag, were NO wires! The bear fence is purely decorative! Being all alone in the wild afforded me the opportunity to shout as loud as I wanted, the first phrase that came to mind, "Oh, Sh*t!!" The sun was low in the sky and I wondered how I would sleep once night came.

As it turns out, when your body succumbs to total exhaustion and you have an enormous hand gun beside you, it's pretty easy to get some shut eye. After all, I was really careful to put anything that carries a scent in the gear tent and that's gotta be worth something. Right?! In any case, since the sun set at 6:00pm and didn't rise again until 9:00am, I found that resting was a good way to fill the fifteen hour nights.

The night was wild, windy and cold yet beautifully clear. The moon was waning but still nearly full allowing for delicate pale blue lighting against dark silhouettes of ridge tops and Tundra contours for miles around. Without any light pollution, the night sky was magnificent. Vast and choked with stars. Although stunning, the nighttime wind led me to think more about my gear tent flying away than about bears.

After a long night and enjoying a good old dehydrated meal for breakfast, I loaded up my hunting pack with extra layers, safety equipment, a couple of snacks, sat phone and my rifle. The morning preparation gave me a little time to come up with a plan if my hunt was successful. In light of my frozen waterlogged boots and lack of bear fence, I decided that I would use the sat phone to arrange for early pickup should my hunt be successful. There is no reason to risk frostbite or bear attack once I have fresh meat 50 yards from where I sleep.

I began working my way across the Tundra step by wet unstable step towards where the Caribou were last seen. After the manditory 24 hour wait time, they were nowhere to be found and were long gone, way beyond walking distance. Then suddenly, some movement along a nearby ridge caught my eye. They were Blacktail Sitka Deer! Lots of them!

My focus shifted instantly. The ridge side where I had seen them was easily 700-800 yards away. Way too far to take a shot. As I moved in closer, trudging clumsily through the wet Tundra, I kept thinking to myself, "I feel like a baby!" Totally without practice and terrible at moving stealthily in these land, I was at the mercy of the Tundra and the grace of the Sitka Deer.

The closer I got, the more curious the Deer became. They went about grazing and occasionally looking up to watch me. They didn't seem to mind me walking in their direction. After all, there are no trees in the Tundra. You can't miss a human walking clear across the open planes. They kept an eye on me and went about their morning.

Finally, after nearly a mile and a half from my camp and crossing a small river, I was in range. At about 300 yards, I needed to move just a little closer. The Deer were grazing in a clearing on a hillside just past a large patch of Alders. I moved in to between 200-250 yards and settled in to take my shot.

When Deer are in the rut (breeding season) high levels of testosterone in the bucks can make their meat taste extra gamey. I drew my sights on a beautiful, large, fat doe looking straight at me. My heart was pounding as I said a prayer of gratitude aloud. I calmed my breath, slowly pulled my trigger....and missed. In all honesty, I missed a few times. The strong winds were enough to push my bullet clean away from my target. Luckily, she didn't seem to mind at all. Once I figured out that I needed to wait for a calm in the wind, I just hoped that this beautiful doe would wait for me. She did.

During a break in the wind and at the lowest point in my breath, I paused and slowly pulled my trigger. She fell instantly and without suffering. This is where the hardest work began.

I believe that working hard to acquire meat is more rewarding than buying it already processed at the store. It is intimate and connects me directly to what it means to eat meat. I have a relationship with each and every animal I hunt. A different story unfolds each time. Whether I'm successful or not, I never leave a hunt empty handed.

When I saw her fall, I thought, "Thank you, Deer." Then, "Ok. Now, I just have to get through that patch if alders and process her quickly." It is common for Brown Bears to investigate the sound of gunshots because it often leads them fresh kills. Some local hunters call it "ringing the dinner bell". A Bear could easily challenge and chase me off of that deer. No contest.

Those alders were no joke! A relentless tangle of unyielding brittle branches, snagging my pack, gun and clothing every step. They are so thick, it makes it impossible to move quickly or see very far. I researched about alders and the Tundra terrain, but until I actually experienced the struggle of trying to move through them, I had NO IDEA how ridiculously difficult it really is.

Once I reached the downed doe, I thanked her and placed a small pinch of sacred tobacco and buck brush on her chest in gratitude for her sacrifice.

I worked fast to skin the doe and prepared to gut her quickly and carefully. Once the gut cavity is opened, the smell of organ meats is quite strong and can attract Bears in no time.

Because she was shot on such a steep slope, I was fighting to keep her from sliding down the hill as I processed her. Only now, I was covered in blood, the gut cavity was open and the clock was ticking.

I grabbed my awesome Caribou Gear Game Bags (if you've never used them, get them.) and packed up the beautiful Sitka Deer in my pack. Remember when I said that she was beautiful, large and fat? Well, as it turns out, I could not pack her out with the additional weight of my safety gear and rifle. I was being crushed into the soft Tundra by the weight of my pack. Even with trekking poles, my right leg slipped into a drainage up to my knee and I fell over in the opposite direction. Thankfully, I wasn't hurt but I knew it was only a matter of time before I seriously injured myself if I tried to continue.

At that moment, I had to make a call. I hauled the deer through the gnarly alders, marked the area with blaze orange flagging tape and left her there so that I could hike back to camp and shed the weight of my hunting gear.

It took me ages to get back. Once back at camp, I took everything out of my bag except bear spray and a bit of water. That clock is still ticking so I had to hustle back to the Deer.

Back through the Tundra and across the creek, I could see the orange flagging tape sticking out horizontally, clinging to a shrub despite the fierce cold wind. "Just a little farther", I said aloud. I remembered to speak up in case Bears are nearby. "HEY, BEAR!", I shouted a few times before approaching the Deer. The coast was clear.

I packed up the beautiful, large, fat Sitka Deer in my pack and after teetering on my back like a turtle on its shell, steadied my feet and set off on my final trip to camp.

Along the way back, I found a shed Caribou antler. What a score! It came in handy too. After another hour, I arrived in camp, exhausted to the point of near vomiting, thirsty, bruised and elated. I set my trekking poles and antler shed across two rolling lumps of Tundra, effectively making a meat rack. The Deer meat was safe at camp...for now.

All said, it took me a full 6 hours of fast paced, heavy hauling, trekking and trudging through miles of treacherous technical terrain, freezing water and piercing cold wind to "secure" that meat. Every step of that experience was a gift.

It was after I climbed into my tent to escape the desicating winds and drink some water when I realized just how risky my situation had become. I was covered in blood, my boots were freezing over, I almost seriously injured myself during the hunt and now, I placed the bounty of my successful hunt in camp with no bear defence. I desperately wanted to protect that meat and knew that if a Bear came to take it, the stakes would be very high because of a situation that I had created.

I used the satilite phone to call Erik for pickup. Although I was prepared for a 7-10 day trip, I had a successful hunt and got all I needed from this epic journey in just two days. And I'm alright with that. Part of being a hunter for me is letting go of expectation by learning what my environment has to teach me.Llistening for when it's time to stay or go. Avoiding obviously dangerous situations so that I can live to hunt another day. Choosing to let animals walk away from my crosshairs because it may be the right thing to do. It's all part of being in the present moment.

In that short time, I learned how dangerous it can be for someone to get into that kind of situation during their first trip in an environment like that. I would have been much better positioned to stay longer if I had a hunting partner, functioning bear fence and better hip waders. I also learned that I am totally going back! Solo hunting is very rewarding and now that I know better how to move in those lands, which gear is useless or priceless and best strategies to keep myself safe, I feel more confident than ever to get my gears shifting toward my next big adventure hunt.

A sneak peek on the trip that I'm already planning for this Spring/Summer 2016 involves Alaska and the chase of Caribou. Thanks to Jerry, I will be bringing my new revolver on all of my upcoming Alaskan hunting adventures.

Returning from this adventure, I am indeed a changed person. I have a stronger drive than ever to push my limits an test my grit. To learn from our Wilderness, Wildlife and folks who have experience and wisdom they so generously share. Each time I leave the woods, I want to get back to it sooner than the last time. I don't mean to paint this picture as one of harsh elements, difficulties, dangers and the harrowing nature of hunting alone in treacherous terrain. Rather, as a clear description of my personal experience as I grow to be a better person and a better hunter trough respecting the Wilderness and testing my limits. This trip was an amazing gift because of its difficulties.

In keeping with theme of changing plans, my originally scheduled "Cari- Barbeque" celebration has been replace by this year's "Black- Tail Event " or perhaps I'll call it a "Sitka Soirée". Regardless of what I end up calling it, I will be hosting a feast to honor all the animals who constantly and patiently teach me and who sacrifice the most by allowing me to harvest them. I owe them deep thanks, prayer and gratitude.

This post is dedicated with all my gratitude to the Wild lands of Alaska for swiftly checking my ego an expectations and letting me live to tell the tale. To Kodiak Brown Bear for graciously ignoring me. To Blacktail Sitka Deer for her sacrifice and meat that will feed my family and lessons that will help me to become a better hunter. To Caribou who first led me on my most heart opening adventure. And to Jerry for his unparalleled concern and generosity toward his fellow man (and woman). Folks like him remind me to keep my heart and mind open, to be kind, patient, compassionate, dedicated and generous. True virtues of a great hunter.

I am truly blessed to have been challenged, changed and driven in this way. My path is one of the Wild and I will continue to walk it with curiosity, confidence and gratitude.

I am a hunter who relies on our Wildlife and Wildlands to harvest meat to feed my family. Naturally, conservation of these resources is near and dear to me. Who takes care of our Wilderness anyway? Is it you? If not, than it very easily can be. So easy, I dare say you'd hardly notice that you are acting as a conservationist in your every day life. Heck, you may already be doing positive things for the environment without even knowing it!

Let's start with narrowing the concept of "CONSERVATION" from a cumbersome global scale to a much more manageable, day to day one. You see, there are many different areas of conservation. We often think of conservation of energy, water, species, native plants just to name a few and it can be overwhelming to think about how you can affect all of them at once. So let's break it down a bit.

As a hunter, I will be focusing on ways I act as a conservationist through mindfulness, balanced action and food choices.

WILDLIFE LAWS ARE THERE FOR A REASON:

The folks at your local Dept o Fish and Game have access to way more data than you do enabling then to have a clear picture of what's happening in your local wilderness. They have a broad understanding that helps them make educated decisions about how much we can take from the land and where we need to let the land recover. So simply by NOT over hunting and NOT over fishing, you are acting as a conservationist. See, you're doing great things for our environment already without lifting a finger!

BUY ORGANIC OR PLANT A GARDEN

If it is within your budget to spend the extra dough for organic produce, go for it! Supporting farmers who are not dumping huge numbers of pesticides onto our soil and who are responsible for the chemical run off that polutes our waterways is a simple way to support a more balanced planet. You get to eat the same fruits and veggies, they are just healthier for you and healthier for the environment.

That said, in many households, the dollar rules all. Organic produce may not me as high of a priority as diapers or car repair. As an alternative option, you can plant your own organic garden. It's a really cheap, sustainable, stress-relieving, independent option. Even if you don't have access to outdoor space, you could consider a window box or roof top garden. I mean, how cool would it be to say to your family, "Tonight's tomatoe sauce cost pennies, is healthy, organic AND came from our garden!" ? Speaking from personal experience having grown my own vegetables and herbs in a window box garden....it's awesome!

FISH AND SEAFOOD:

There are plenty of fishing opportunities here in Virgina which offer me more ways to connect to my environment through the ethical harvest of resources. Now, I will not try to fool you by telling you that I'm a great fisherman. In fact, I'm not good at fishing at all. But, I really enjoy the stillness and anticipation and ultimately the reward of catching a keeper! It gives me the same feeling of connection and responsibility to be able to harvest wild fish that did not come from a crowded tank somewhere overseas being fed who knows what.

If you're not equipped or interested in fishing, you can try to seek out sustainably caught fish and seafood. Our ocean is so heavily over fished that your choice of where your seafood comes from really matters. Overfishing has caused a decline in the number of Salmon traveling upstream and inland Alaska. Some years, the Alaska Dept of Fish and Game had to close or strictly limit the amount of some Salmon species caught, in an effort to allow their numbers to bounce back. By being mindful about supporting sustainable fishing practices, you are acting as a conservationist.

BUY LOCAL OR HUNT:

I made the choice to become a hunter for many reasons but primarily because I do not want to support the industrialized meat industry and I want to know exactly where my meat comes from. Hunting wild animals does not require the destruction of wild habitat and it's economical. The image above shows the many meals my family will be enjoying from just one Deer. Being an ethical hunter allows me to leave a much smaller footprint on this Earth and connect to our wilderness in profound ways. That alone is worth it for me.

If hunting is not right for you, buying meat from a small local farmer can have a really great conservation effect too. Especially now that the USDA no longer has to declare which country your meat comes from (yikes) I recommend a quick google search to find local meat producers in your area. Most of these small farmers work hard and are really proud of their farms. In my experience, they are more than happy to invite you to have a look at the place to see for yourself. If an invitation is extended, take it! If you've got kids, take them along for an opportunity to see a real working farm and learn about responsible farming early. Plus, it would make for a really fun day trip!

CHICKEN AND THE EGG:

Before we moved to the country, we would purchase eggs from local farmers who kept happy healthy chickens and It made such a difference. Cattle and pigs aren't the only ones who have a rough time in factory settings. Chickens get stressed, overcrowded and sick just like other livestock.

Now that we live out in the country, my wife and I raise chickens for eggs and meat. These are hands down, the greatest tasting eggs and chickens I've ever eaten. That is due to making sure that our flock has plenty of space to forage, gets the right nutrients from food we give them and are cared for well. If you take good care of them, they'll take good care of you.

Other bonuses to having chickens are being able to use their manure as compost for our garden and they do not require us to clear wild habitat for them. It's a great way for us to keep our footprint small.

If buying eggs is the way to go for you, consider being mindful about labeling. "Free Range" or "Cage Free" may not mean ranging freely to forage on a farm. It can be used for poultry producers who have many hundreds or thousands of chickens in a crowded dirty pen inside of a warehouse. So because they are technically not in a cage and able to range from one side of the containment pen to the other, they can be labeled as "cage free" or "free range". I've been to one of these "farms" and let's just say that there is a reason the operation happens behind closed doors. It sure as heck too away my appetite.

The same mindful approach can be applied to sourcing out locally and lovingly raised chickens for your dinner table.

This post is meant to share what I do in my life personally and is not meant to cast judgement if you do things differently. One thing is for sure, it's easier than you think to make a big difference!

Every hunter must ensure that their firearm is sighted in properly and shoots true. A special thanks to Henry Baskerville of Cavalier Rifle and Pistol Club in Montpilier, VA for allowing me to do just that at his outdoor range.

Yesterday was the third time I checked my rifle for this trip. Each time to test different ammo and record where the bullet hits at 200 and 300 yards.

I have an invaluable sense of reassurance knowing that a longer range shot will not be without careful and pre-measured calculation.

As payment, Henry enjoys fresh baked goods. Yesterday's treat was a batch of blueberry swirl muffins made with blueberries my wife picked at a local "Pick-your-own" patch.

The rifle I have selected for this trip is a Tikka T3 Hunter in a .308 caliber. It's accurate, sturdy and holds a large enough bullet to humanely dispatch large game such as Caribou.

I learned a few tips that have completely changed my thinking about how I might use firearms in Alaska and will share them here with you now.

1. "Dry fire" your firearm before actually shooting at your target. Dry firing is done when your firearm is UNLOADED. First, get your sights precisely on target, control your breathing, get ready to take a shot and gently squeeze the trigger. Because your firearm is unloaded, no bullet will fire but there is a huge benefit to doing this just before you actually shoot the animal you are hunting. It takes all the anticipatory nerves right out of the equation.

It's very common for hunters to feel like they must rush the shot and quickly fire in an effort to get their quarry down. There can be a tremendous flood of adrenaline in a situation like this and it can lead to a missed shot or worse, a poorly placed one.

Taking a moment to dry fire at the animal takes all of that flustered hurry away and allows you to make a calm, well placed and practiced shot.

2. Place a strip of electrical tape over the end of your barrel to prevent rain or debris from getting in it. Doing this has no effect on the bullet's trajectory whatsoever. When a gun is fired, the gas that erupts from the bullet when fired escapes out of the barrel first. It does so with incredible force and speed, blowing the electrical tape completely off before the bullet even exits the muzzle. This is a great tip for anyone planning to hunt in rough wet country or where the weather is unpredictable.

3. Rifles are for hunting, Bear spray is for Bears. There was some debate as to whether or not I should pack a large caliber hand gun for Bear protection in addition to my hunting rifle.

Trying to instantly kill a charging Bear was described to me like this: "It's like trying to hit a target the size of a softball, charging at you at 35mph while weaving back and forth."

I don't know about you, but I'd never want to take up that kind of challenge!

Bear spray on the other hand, shoots a stream of incapacitating pepper spray at a distance of over 30ft! Nailing the Bear in the face with this stuff, will shut it down completely. The clear upside to this is that both the Bear and I get to live on without injury or permanent discomfort and I don't have to bet my life on an adrenaline charged insanely difficult shot!

I'm sure the local folks will have more advice and I hope to learn from them too.

For now, I will continue to bribe Henry with delicious baked goods and enjoy his wonderful company and invaluable expertise.

When I first set forth to learn how to become a hunter, I made a promise to pass it on. Actually, several promises to several teachers. It seemed that anyone who was willing to teach me about hunting did so freely and only asked that I "pass it on".

So here I go. This season will be my first time taking on students who wish to become ethical hunters and providers of healthy meats for their families.

What I'm finding as I head down this path is that there is just as much letting go as there is supporting and providing guidance. Everyone has a different starting point. As a teacher, I try to correct as little as possible. I try not to tell people "do it like this" rather, I'll show and explain what the objective is.. As long as they are safe and ethical, it's ok that people do things differently than I do.

My first student, Gill began as many hunters do, with firearm training. This student is a full grown, adult man who has had a fair deal of firearm experience in the past. He already had the confidence to handle his rifle safely and comfortably. All we really worked on were some tips for sighting in his gun and helping him to stabilize his shot without a gun rest.

Our next step was to get into some camouflage clothing and say a prayer of thanks to the animals of the Forest. This is not a step I overlook because the few seconds it takes to express my gratitude for a life that is about to be given, helps create an immediate connection to my environment and deeply centers me. I pass this on too. It's not manditory to pray, however, in my view, it is manditory to have respect for our wilderness.

So after offering a pinch of tobacco and gratitude, we very slowly began to stalk our way into the wooded forest.

Stalking is much slower than you might think it is. Sometimes only taking one step and waiting a full minute before starting your next move. You see, as humans, when we walk on our two feet, it makes a very recognizable sound. One-two, one-two, one-two, one-two. The animals in the Forest can hear us from a long way off (assuming the wind doesn't blow your scent in their direction and give you away sooner).

Luckily for us, the wind was in our favor and our movements were slow and deliberate. Once we settled into an area where we'd be able to get a clear shot at a Deer should one make themselves available we settled into stillness.

Gill took to this like a duck to water. He didn't fidget, stir, adjust his seat, talk or make any sudden movements. He was so focused on being calm and still that he didn't even notice when I waved gently to get his attention. Solid focus. It was really so rewarding to see. This was not something that I taught him at all. I gave him the concept and he got it right away. He was able to mirror the quiet, undisturbed wilderness in his own energy. It was humbling to observe.

We heard a good number of Squirrels rustling around in the leaves but no Deer. We stayed for a couple of hours until it was took dark to shoot safely and didn't speak until we were out of the wood line.

Even though we did not harvest a Deer, we did not come out of the woods empty handed. Practicing that kind of focus and connection to the Wild is always worth the time spent.

So my gratitude today is not just to the Wildlands and Wildlife that make our world great, but to the people who want to learn more about it. To those who seek out a deeper connection to the foods they eat and act as shepherds of the land, the conservationists. Thank you to anyone who seeks to learn and pass it on.

I'm not sure about everywhere else, but hunting season here in Virginia has been unseasonably warm this year. This can make it difficult to allow meat from your hunt to bleed out and hang for any great length of time.

I approach meat care from two angles: Getting it from the field to the house and then again, once it's safely back at home.

I always use Caribou Gear game bags to transport my meat for many reasons. The most important reasons for me are that they breathe incredibly well and because they are synthetic, they are hydrophobic. This means that they naturally repel moisture. Dry meat is safer meat. Cotton (being a plant fiber) is hydrophilic, it likes water. So if you've ever wondered why leaving a cotton game bag on your meat for a few days will result in a musty smell, it's because the cotton game bag is providing an awesome breeding ground for mold and bacteria to grow on your meat. Gross. An important note: using any synthetic bag is not the end of the story. Typical synthetic bags will not breathe, thus allowing moisture to collect on the inside if the bag, against your meat causing spoilage. So, if your paramount concern as a hunter is meat care, get yourself a set of these bags and use them over and over again for years and years. You will not be disappointed. www.biggamebags.com

Now, what to do when your hard earned harvest is back at home? Personally, if the outside temperature is in the low to mid 30's, I allow Deer to hang, uncovered to dry age for 4-6 day (depending on the size of the Deer). I use this technique to dry age the meat. If you've never had dry aged venison, it is likely not at all what you are expecting. Dry aged meat is delicate, tender, complex and sublime. When done properly, there is no gamey taste whatsoever and completely transforms the meat into a very special delicacy.

This warmer weather here in Virginia has prevented me from simply allowing the Deer meat to hang and age naturally without the risk of spoilage. So, as you might expect from a woodsman (or woman), I built my own solution.

I bought a medium sized refrigerator on Craigslist and modified it to serve as a dry aging unit by cutting out the divider between the fridge and freezer portions, allowing plenty if room to hang the Deer.

The fridge I selected had the cooling unit tucked away at the back of the freezer. This is important, as some fridge/freezers have the cooling unit situated between the freezer and fridge, making it impractical to remove the divider between the two spaces.

Then, I took the light, fan and thermostat and repositioned them so that the thermostat rested very close to the cooling unit at the back of the freezer. This way, it senses that the temperature is plenty cold and shuts off after a few minutes, instead of trying to make the entire dry aging unit as cold as a freezer.

At the end of the five or so days it takes to age the venison, I butcher, vacuume seal and freeze my precious harvest to enjoy throughout the year.

From preparing before the hunt by building the dry aging fridge to many hours sitting or staking during the hunt to the joys of sharing such lovingly cared for meat with your family and friends...the feeling is without compare. I wouldn't have it any other way than to live my life as one extremely grateful hunter.

Choosing not to purchase my meat from the grocery means that hunting season is my opportunity to harvest food for the rest of the year.

Last week, I went to Florida to help my mother-in-law do some maintenance on her home and decided to add 3 days onto the trip to hunt for Wild Hog. This experience turned out to be one I will never forget.

As with any solo hunt, I assessed and listed the potential risks and they are as follows:

1. More venomous snakes than I can name.

2. Venomous spiders, ticks and chiggers.

3. Getting very lost in the thick, flat "everything looks the same" terrain.

4. MOSQUITOES (not really dangerous, but can make hunting unbarable.)

5. The defensive nature of the Hogs themselves (if you can lay eyes on them).

6. The challenge of hauling a very large animal out of the tangled mess of marshland from deep within the wilderness.

7. Alligators.

Assessing dangers and challenges as a solo hunter is just practical and responsible. Knowing what I might face allows me to prepare for these potentials and handle them calmly should things go sideways.

Wild hogs (specifically, Boars and Sows with piglets) have been known to charge humans causing serious injury with their powerful tusks. Who can blame them? I'd like to think that I would try to defend myself too if I were being hunted. The intelligence, skill and courage of these wild critters doesn't stop there. They have a super hero's sense of smell that only gets sharper when it rains. Not to mention, extraordinary hearing with their big ol' ears and they can weigh more than 300lbs. Dispite their large size, they are typically very shy and difficult to locate.

It is currently Deer season in Florida so the Wildlife Management Area in which I was hunting was flooded with other Deer hunters. In reality, they were local folks in 4X4 trucks with huge "mudding" tires and multiple hound dogs sent chasing anything that moves in the forested marsh land. This made my solo still hunting on the ground very challenging because if all the ruckus caused by the dogs.

In addition, all of that hunting pressure drove the Hogs deep into the 60,000 acre Wildlife Area, forcing me to follow their sign further and further into this beautiful but unforgiving terrain.

The wetland marsh areas there looked like something straight out of Jurassic Park. Thick clusters of towering Cyprus trees draped with long beards of Spanish Moss surrounded by endless fields of palmetto plants closed in any ability to see very far. It became so easy to get turned around and very truly lost. If you ever do something like this, solo or not, bring a GPS, map and compass. With the many species of venomous snakes and spiders out there, you do not want to get lost overnight.

I had an opportunity to speak with some local Deer hunters who were kind enough to point out some good locations for me to scout for Wild Hog and let me smoke up my hunting clothes at their campfire to help cover my human scent. The advice was all the same, "Edge of the Swamp". Every time I heard someone direct me back to the swamp, I could already hear the multitude of mosquitoes trying to collectively drain me of blood and carry me away. In spite of this I thought, "If I am successful in this hunt, the Hog will be sacrificing more than I will." And so I went deep into the Cyrus groves, saw grass, marshland and palmettos.

I spent 3 solid days from pre-dawn to after dusk without a single Hog sighting. I was hearing folks say there was "fresh Hog sign over this way" or "I bet they would be in that area" or I saw a few but I'm looking for Deer."

I was hunting a ghost.

After it became too dark to shoot safely at the end of my third day, I had been bested by a formidable and mysterious animal but I did not leave empty handed.

I was again blessed by the Grace of the natural world. In my whole time there, I did not run into a single snake, spider or alligator. I was not gored or charged by a wild Hog and I learned an awful lot about safety and navigation in the Wetlands.

Now that I'm back in sweet Virginia, I have just under 2 weeks to finish filling my freezer for the year before the season ends. No matter what happens, the connection to wilderness and wildlife that I have been so fortunate to have experienced was just as much of a blessing as if I had brought home the Wild Bacon.

Black Bear can afford some of the most sublime and delicious tasting meat anywhere. This is because of its fat. That said, a Black Bear's fat is flavored by its diet and being opportunistic omnivores, it's diet can vary widely. In other words, if a Bear fattens up for winter on acorns and blueberries, it will end up with a delightfully sweet, rich flavor. If a Bear fattens up on fish or eats a container or motor oil (it has happened), it can end up tasting pretty funky.

A fellow hunter, to whom I am extremely grateful, shared some of his hard earned harvest of this year's Black Bear with me. One of the most delightful treats that he gave me was a huge bag of Bear fat.

Each time I am so fortunate to receive Bear fat from my friend, I render it and use it all year for cooking and baking. Below is a description of how to do it.

First, cut the fat into small 1 inch cubes. Be sure to separate any large pieces of meat and set them aside. They can be used for ground Bear or cubed for stew meat.

Place the small cubes of fat into a large pot and set the heat to LOW. Having messed this up in the past because I tried to rush the process under higher heat, I can tell you that it is really easy to burn the fat and ruin it's flavor.

As it cooks, it will start to change color. The whole process can take a few hours so be patient, stir occasionally and let it do it's thing. Keep it on LOW the whole time.

Place a sheet of paper towel in the strainer to catch any of the smaller particles that may make in into the otherwise clear Bear fat. Strain the liquid fat into a metal bowl. At this stage, you will be left with a bonus: Crispy "Bear rinds". Salt them and add a pinch of spicy chili pepper for a delicious treat!

Once the very hot liquid fat has had a few minutes to cool just a bit, pour the fat into Ball or Mason jars.

There you have it. Delicious, heathy, wild harvested Black Bear fat. It is incredible for frying and baking. It's particularly delicious in making super flaky buscuits.

When you're all alone in the middle of nowhere, the right gear can mean the difference between enjoying your time in the wilderness or enduring it.

I have selected a number of items that I took along on a solo drop hunt on Kodiak Island, Alaska. Some of this gear truly saved my bacon, some others failed and cost me dearly.

Shelter:I took two separate tents with me, one for gear, one for sleeping.

The first was my sleeping tent. Big Agnes 2 person Ultralight 3 season tent that weighs just over 2 lbs. You can't beat it for the weigh and it would be a smart, compact backup system. For what is was, it was excellent at keping me dry and out of the constant 25mph winds. It held up well under those conditions, however I am certain that if I had stayed in the field longer, the increasing winds would have ultimately destroyed it. It is an exceptional tent but I would not recommend bringing into an area of intense winds without a backup plan.

The second tent is the Kelty Salida. Also a two person 3 season tent weighing in at a little over 4 lbs. More or less, I feel the same way about this tent as I do about the Big Agnes. The difference being that it would have been more spacious to sleep in and has a more robust aluminum pole setup. Again, great tent, just not for those winds. I would not recommend bringing any 3 season tent into an environment like this.

Sleeping:I brought a 15 degree Marmot down sleeping bag. I love this bag! The catch is that it must be kept dry. Down does not insulate well when wet.

I coupled my bag with a Sea to Summit Thermolite extreme liner and I was warm and comfortable all night long. This sleeping bag liner is a MUST HAVE when in cold environments!

My sleeping pad is a Therm-a-rest NeoAir. It is rated for 4 seasons and does a great job at keeping the cold ground from sapping my body heat. Also, it happens to be extraordinarily comfortable, especially on uneven terrain.

Clothing:If you expect to be in a cold, rainy environment, buy a set of Helly Hanson Impertech rain gear. I am certain that this layer is why I did not suffer from hypothermia. Unbelievably effective, durable and comfortable. If I were to select one piece of my gear as the very BEST item to bring, it would be this rain gear, hands down. Undoubtedly, priceless.

Additional layers included a lot of merino wool and fleece synthetics. They do the trick and keep you out of dangerously low temps.

Boots and Waders:

I wear Keen Targhee II boots. They claim to be "waterproof". Nope. They are the most comfortable boot I've ever worn, but waterproof, they are not. These were new boots that I triple treated with extra waterproofing and they still failed. Thumbs up for comfort, thumbs down for keeping my feet dry.

Waders:Oh boy, do I have some colorful words to describe the epic and total failure of Hodgmans Ultralight hip waders. Granted, I should have packed beefier waders, and I will next time but these behaved like they were made of paper! Only two hours of walking around while setting up camp and these things were torn, punctured and USELESS. Do not think you can depend on these pieces of junk, even as a backup plan!

I wore Sealskinz as well. They are "waterproof" neoprene socks. These too are not waterproof and are in effect, useless. It's always a bummer when your backup, backup fails.

Navigation:I use a SPOT gen 3 to send pre-programmed "I'm all good here." messages to loved ones back home. It's also used to call in the Calvary and local rescue when I hit the SOS button. It offers great piece of mind on solo trips, only, call the company to make sure that you will have coverage in very remote areas before heading into the field.

MyTopo.com is where I get my printed maps. I bring printed maps because batteries die, plain and simple. They are waterproof and super durable, not to mention, clear and effective. The folks at MyTopo will actually help you create the map that you need in the area you plan to be. In fact, they rushed delivered my printed maps for me when my trip plans changed last minute and I got them in two days. Priceless.

I also have an offline sat nav app on my phone called, Trimble Outdoor Navigator. It's my understanding that MyTopo and Trimble Outdoor is actually the same company, one deals with hard copy, the other digital. This too was awesome. I just downloaded the "map pack" of Kodiak Island and had a portable topomap of the whole island on my phone, no cell signal required. It was pretty awesome to see the tiny speck of my camp location against the great wilderness that surrounded me. Very easy, effective and apps don't weigh anything! No brainer, priceless.

Trekking Poles:I use the Black Diamond Z poles. Ultralight, aluminum, tough as nails and essential to moving around on the Tundra.

Hunting gear:I have to give some serious credit to BassPro for some of the most important elements of my hunting pack.

For my rifle and ammo, I took a Savage Hunter XP in a .243 caliber and ran Barnes Vor-Tx full copper ammo through it. Indeed it was a winning combination. Both of which, I purchased at BassPro at a better price than nearly all other nearby retailers.

For field dressing there are three primary tools I never go in the field without:

The knife and guthook are lightweight and crazy sharp. Be extra careful with the Havalon. A tiny slip with one can easily cut you to the bone.

As for my game bags, meat care is my absolute top priority. I am a meat hunter, so the meat is my trophy. Naturally, it makes sense to get a bag designed to give me the best possible way to let the meat breathe, protect it from spoilage, keep it clean and stand up to my beating the hell out of it. If you are new to hunting or have just gotten into the habit of using cheap, crappy game bags from Wallyworld (I am guilty of having done this before I knew better), then you may want to consider investing in a set of bags that you can use for MANY YEARS. They really are excellent, they rinse out to looking brand new and I never leave them behind when I go hunting for my next meal. These last three, totally priceless!

There are countless other items that I packed, most of which worked out sufficiently well for me to make it out alive and fully functioning. My hunting gear was flawless, my reain gear was priceless and my foot protection was useless.

Knowing what I know now, I will be better equipped in the future to hunt harder, farther and longer. In my view, that is the most priceless of all.

The best laid plans of moose and men do often go arye. Planning for this Arctic adventure if nothing else, has certainly taught me to be flexible.

I am now set to depart to the Arctic Tundra in MID-OCTOBER. And according to Sue Aikens, winter is already at the Kavik River Camp. Her water lines have already frozen, temps are in the teens and she gets regular dusting a of snow every day. This does not rattle her a bit because she is so accustomed to it. I on the other hand, having no experience in these kinds of extremes shared my reaction. Clearly, Sue sees the world differently. Here is an excerpt of our dialogue from an email:

Sue: "I suspect it will probably reach -20F by the time you arrive."

Me: "Holy sh*t! I've never been in anything that cold! Hopefully all the warm layers of gear I'm bringing will keep me from becoming a Katie-cicle...in any case, it's sure to be one hell of an adventure!"

Sue: "wheeeeeee"

"Wheeeeee"? I couldn't help but chuckle aloud when I read that. It made me even more excited to meet her in person. She is evidently, one of a kind.

In re-packing for the umteenth time, my pack weight went from a respectable 60 lbs to a seam busting 96 lbs. My gear weight limit on the bush plane is 100 lbs. Any more than an additional Cliff bar will be scrutinized and evaluated for utility and necessity.

Winter gear is heavier than Summer gear. There is no getting around it. And you can't exactly say, "Well, I guess I don't REALLY need these extra base layers." Or, "Maybe I'll pack a lighter jacket."

At least not without expecting to risk hypothermia or frost bite.

Understanding that I will no longer have the Bears as my main concern, rather sub-zero temperature to respect has changed the game a bit for me. I am very excited, certainly, but also the tiniest bit nervous. This is after all, the kind of weather that can snuff you out in a heartbeat.

I leave in a few short weeks. Each passing day bringing colder weather, shorter days and snow. I guess now is as good a time as any to ask myself, "What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?!"

When preparing for the better part of a year to take the trip of a lifetime, one might assume that you would be well and truly prepared. In my case, my trip had been rescheduled twice, leaving me to prepare all over again...twice.

Initially, I was meant to be in the high Arctic in late August. Summer in the Tundra. Then in late September. Certainly colder, but nothing to really throw me off. Now, I will be heading up there in Mid-October. Or more accurately, Octoburrrrrr!

When my plans changed to this date and season, I thought, "Ok. This is going to be WAY colder than what I packed for."

For those of you following my plans for this trip, I will be glad to bring you photos of the Northern Lights upon my return. Since I will be there much later, the Lights return to dazzle and delight.

I will have a chance to hunt Ptarmigan as well as a late Fall Caribou hunt. Connecting with where my food comes from is hugely important to me. I don't expect everyone to understand or appreciate my life choices and recognize hunting as a sensitive issue for some folks. I respect that.

If I am so fortunate to harvest a Caribou, I will do so with great reverence and not a single part of it will be waisted.

I'm assuming there will be a fair bit if snow on the ground by the time I get up there. I've never worn snowshoes in my life. I wonder if I'll need them? I guess there is really no way to practice that sort of activity until you're actually right there in the snow needing them. At the very least, that's going to be an adventure!

Oh, and if you're curious, the photo of the Polar Bear was the first image to come up when I googled, "Arctic weather October".

Heart wide open and fingers crossed, I am prepared for a very chilly introduction to the Arctic.

After more than seven months of planning, less than a week before my scheduled departure date and due to a number of very bizarre circumstances, I have cancelled my Caribou hunting trip.

I don't mean to say that I will not be going to the Tundra or that I will not be able to hunt Caribou. Rather, my planned trip was in an instant, fundamentally restructured from top to bottom.

New plan: I must wait another 5-6 weeks before heading up to the Tundra and will be there indefinitely.

I have an opportunity to help someone who really needs a hand and have one hell of an adventure in the process! And yes, I will be able to hunt Caribou while I'm up there. I don't know how long I will be in Alaska. It could be two weeks or two months, but will keep an open heart and open mind along my journey.

I'm sure you would all like a little more detail on what the hell just happened. As soon as I get those details, I will be sure to keep you updated.

At this stage, the possibilities are mind blowing and I am pumped to see what's around the corner for me. Essentially, I've upgraded my already epic adventure, for an even bigger one!

This is absolute proof that one can plan as much as they'd like, but it doesn't garuntee any of it will happen the way we think it might. It's all about letting go and rolling with whatever comes your way.

So now, it's back to packing, re-packing and double checking what I've packed. Since I will be in the Arctic during the "Autumn" months, I am probably going to have to pack an extra sweater.

After enough time in the forest, I emerge, well rested and with a renewed sense of connectedness.

Someone asked me, "What do you actually DO out there?" To answer that question, I have comprised a list of just those sorts of things. They are after all, the things that bring about the renewed sense of connectedness.

As I drove down the "road" to where I was to set up camp, I noticed the path was blocked by a large section of a dead tree.

As I got out of the car to move the log, it dawned on me how it got there in the first place. A Bear put it there. Evidently, a bear was ripping the rotten log up looking for grubs and whatnot. This log section was every bit of 100lbs or more, seemingly tossed about with ease by what I assume to be a pretty big Bear.

Check. Bears in the area. Noted. Now I will be mindfull and try not to sneak up on one. This is his Forest, not mine. As a guest, it's best not to step on any toes....big, furry, clawed toes.

After clearing the log from the path and arriving at my destination, I set up my tent. It had been raining and was threatening to continue through the next day or two. Knowing that I've got a dry place to rest frees up my mind to focus on other matters.

Next, I set up my "bathroom area". I find it's best to do this BEFORE you actually have to use it.

Then, I collected some wood and started a fire. This part of being in the woods is easily my favorite. There is nothing like starting a fire with nothing more than a match (or if I'm feeling adventurous, a flint and steel set) to bring to life a warming fire on a wet day. The kind of fire to dry you out, cook your food and warm your soul.

Then came the process of making dinner. You might think that dehydrated meals are not very appetizing. I would agree. So, as I had mentioned in my previous post, I packed in wild game meats an of course some veggies a bit of bread and some seasonings.

Dinner for me consisted of:

Open Fire Bear Kabobs

Grilled Corn on the Cobb and

Roasted Garlic on Peasant Bread

I often get asked, "What does Bear taste like?"

The answer is specific to the individual Bear. You see, Bears are omnivorous and they eat all kinds of stuff!

If you were to taste the meat from a Bear that has been eating fish from a stream or perhaps gotten into a container of motor oil, THAT Bear will likely taste pretty foul.

If you happen to harvest a Bear that has been fattening up on acorns and blueberries, THAT Bear is likely to deliver a sweet, melt in your mouth experience that no steak house could hope to beat.

The flavor of the Bear lies in its fat, and they typically have lots of it! Not just on its hips and belly, but inside the muscle. Not unlike marbling on a good cut of beef.

The Bear I was enjoying that night was hands down, some of the finest tasting meat I have ever enjoyed.

A quick note on my eating bear meat:

I have never hunted Bear, nor do I believe I ever will. It I a personal decision based on the overwhelming population of Deer here in Virginia and the once very numerous Bear, now not being so numerous. That said, a friend of mine and his dad regularly hunt Bear and last year, were kind enough to trade me some of the meat from their successful hunt. I have enjoyed every morsel of it with deep gratitude to both the Bear and the hunter who ethically harvested it.

Later that evening and with a full belly, I offered some tobacco and prayer to the Forest around me and all the life within it. It's a good feeling being grateful. For me, gratitude brings me closer to people, animals, trees and my higher power. It instilled a sense of calm and belonging. Almost as if no matter where I am, when I fill myself up with griatitude, I am exactly where I'm meant to be.

After a while when the fire burned down a bit and began to smolder, I took a "smoke bath". Smoke baths are used to eliminate body oder (a special trick for all you hunters out there) and clears away much of your human scent. Not to mention, it feels great.

At that stage, it was time to crawl into my tent and listen for bears as I drifted into a deep restful sleep. Being in Nature seems to have a way for shutting down all my "in town" systems that are used to detect city sounds and street lights. With those systems down, it is deep sleep light out for me!

Upon waking it the morning, I made the unfortunate discovery that a gang of seed ticks though the tops of my feet would be a cool place to set up a camp of their own. Not cool! Seed ticks are no big deal to remove (if you can see them) but their bite site is itchy as hell! Even given the unpleasant wake up, I had some more things to do.

Slowly, I got myself together and began making breakfast. I sipped a ginger tea with honey as I watched my morning meal sizzle.

Bear Steak and Eggs on Toast

This meal was equally as delicious as the meal I had for dinner the night before. No joke, folks, wild game meats are where it's at.

"Roughing it" in the woods only happens when I don't like being there. When I embrace the woods and offer no resistance, it evokes childlike curiousity and wonder.

I have a profound affinity for spending time in the Wild. And I have a deep respect for all of Nature. After all, that's where we all come from and that's what we are all connected to.

The gravity of what I am about to do is now settling down on me and even I can't really believe I'm doing this.

Before I "go dark" and unplug from all things electric, I wanted to say, "thank you."

Thank all of you who read my blog, support me, send me well wishes and for giving a damn. Embarking on an epic adventure by myself is not unusual, but doing so with the love and support of the folks around me has made this experience so much richer. Thank you.

My wife, Angela deserves special recognition. Her unwavering support of me following my path even when what I'm about to do is a bit scary and possibly dangerous requires deep levels of strength, courage and selflessness. Affording me the space to grow into the person I will become by following my dreams is a gift beyond measure. Thank you.

To the dozens of folks who let me pick their brains with hundreds of questions about gear, weather, safety and logistics. Your patience is appreciated and your knowledge, invaluable. Thank you.

To all of the folks I work with. You have the choice to select any Medical Massage Therapist. It is an honor and a privilege that you have selected me. I do not take you for granted even a little bit. Thank you.

To the Caribou who migrate incredible distances and thrive in the most difficult climate I can imaging. I appreciate all the beauty, sustenance and inspiration you share. You give up the biggest gift of all. Thank you.

On this trip, nothing is certain and there is an awful lot of letting go of control. Yet, without hesitation, I'm all in. This is my path, and it leads me North. I do so with extraordinary gratitude and love for all the wonderful people I have in my life. Thank you!!!

They are military grade HazMat bags that are so odor proof, bears cannot smell through them. I have used these on many occasions in Black Bear country and LOVE them.

Over the last several months, I have packed and re packed countless times making sure that everything I need is just right. In actuality, getting gear that is "just right" is impossible when headed to an ecosystem I've never visited to hunt an animal I've never seen in real life before. The reality is, you can never know what gear will fail and what gear will surprise you with unexpected utility.

Believing that my gear is "just right" makes me feel better about how prepared I am, so that's good enough for me. Realizing that control is an illusion makes it easier to let it go. I've done the best I can and now it's time to let go and trust that it will all work out.

Now that I've got all of that buttoned up, I am off the the Forests of Virginia to reconnect with the Wild. I will not have any electronics with me so will be offline until just before my flight to the top of our world.

It's an interesting feeling being so close to departure. I think much of the time we talk about how a particular activity felt after we've done it. Preparing for this trip even before I've actually taken it feels like an experience unto itself. The readying mentally, spiritually and physically has been an ongoing process for months and now all of a sudden, I'm about to put all of that to the test.

I can pack all the best gear in the world, but my experience up there is likely to call on my enginuity, physical strength, emotional strength and my ability to keep a clear head. Nowhere in the world do I experience myself at my strongest that when I am in the Wilderness. Without a doubt, it brings out the best in me. I am more patient, careful, mindful, creative and engaged. Practing all of these qualities away from email, phones and people are for me, essential.

I wonder what other women heading to hunt Caribou by themselves in the high Arctic do to prepare? I ask because people usually travel in groups and I haven't met many women hunters.

I suppose that's why I've been preparing this way. It's the way I know how to bring out the best in me.

Perhaps other folks just cuck some gear in a bag, grab a rifle, throw caution to the wind and roll the dice.

For me, this trip is far more spiritual than chucking stuff in a bag and rolling the dice. Extra care is a must.

In truth, I take great care in preparing for any hunt. I am still leaving my home with the intention of taking a life. This is not a matter I take lightly, even when squirrel hunting. The scope of my preparation is not dictated by the size or species of my quarry. It's serious business and every living creature deserves respect and reverence.

I experience profound gratitude when an animal gives it's life up so that my family and I can eat. That gratitude is carried into every bite at the dinner table. This deep connection to the wild foods that I eat drives me to spend even more time in the woods.

This week I will be learning from the animals, trees and birds, developing piercingly heightened senses, practicing patience and prayer with gratitude while reconnecting with our Wild lands. This week I will reconnect with reality.

The countdown continues to my Arctic Adventure. Less than three weeks left until I head to the Great White North.

I have been preparing for this trip over the last seven months by getting the right gear, doing tons of research, booking flights, making reservations, praying, having my hunting clothes tailored, working out, seeking advice, growing sacred tobacco (more on that later) saving up extra money and writing this blog.

My next step in preparing for this journey is one of a mental and spiritual one. A while back, I had written a post called, "Hunting and the Essential Vulnerability ". It's about allowing yourself to soften and relax enough to blend seamlessly into a wild environment. It's also about how that wild environment serves as a mirror to your own emotional state.

After all the preparation and planning, working and researching it is now time to rest and get back to a place of inner calm and relaxed action.

Because I am going by myself to Arctic Grizzly-ville, having my senses at their sharpest to detect local predators is vital. I can be the toughest kid on the block physically, but if my head is on matters other than my immediate surroundings, I could easily risk being someone's lunch.

So my next step is to spend a week of solitude here in the forests of Virginia just before I head to Alaska.

Although I have never formally been trained in Native American hunting customs or spirituality, I do understand that making an offering of tobacco to the Spirits in the forests and of the animals I plan to hunt is an important way to show gratitude.

This is what I do as a hunter. I pray, I offer tobacco and I ask permission from the animal I plan to hunt before I ever pick up my rifle. Taking a life is a big deal to me and finding a way to do so in a way that feels completely honest is equally important. This way felt right to me. If I am fortunate enough to harvest an animal, I thank the animal for giving up its life and place a pinch of tobacco on its heart.

This summer, I grew my own tobacco to be used for just this purpous.

During my week of solitude in the forest here, I will be meditating, praying, fire making and fire keeping, offering tobacco, stalking quietly through the woods and eating a diet of all wild game. I will bring a cooler with me containing local fish that I caught, deer, squirrel and bear meat. My intention is to disconnect from the electric buzz of the city, quiet my internal rhythm, dream, and rest. My iPhone is not invited.

With a little focus and a bit of time, I will not only be ready for my journey physically, but spiritually and mentally as well and have a better chance staying off the menu.

As many of you know, I am headed out to hunt caribou in the Arctic Tundra of Alaska next month. By "Arctic Tundra" I mean, Kavik River Camp. The very same camp run by Sue Aikens of the "Life Below Zero" show on the National Geographic Channel.

Just yesterday, I was having a pair of men's hunting pants tailored to fit me (as I often need to do) and as I was waiting, some women who were there for a bridal fitting asked me about the curious camouflage pants I had brought with me.

They asked me all sorts of questions about hunting, gear and butchering. I was delighted by their interest and equally happy to answer. It was only when I mentioned that I would be doing this trip by myself did the room full of women simultaneously gasp!

"Are you kidding me?!" one woman asked. Another exclaimed, "I thought you were going as part of a bus tour!"

They were all very lovey folks. In fact, one woman gave me her business card and asked me to drop her a line to let her know if I was successful in harvesting a caribou.

I wouldn't be surprised if when you think about hunting, you think of men hunters. And I have met some extraordinary, stand-up hunters who happen to be men. Saying that, I would love to run into more women hunters.

All too often I hear about women wanting to put good, healthy meat on the table for their families. Ladies, there is nohting stopping you. If I can do it, you can do it! I'm not saying you have to travel to Alaska and hunt caribou. Checking out your local state department of fish and wildlife is an excellent place to start learning about becoming a hunter in yourl area.

People are colorfully complex and always mysterious. We can never guess just makes any one person tick. Why are some folks drawn to hunting while others can't bear the idea?

I've been wondering what is driving me to travel nearly to the top of our planet on a personal quest which may or may not involve harvesting a caribou 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle. A fair question for anyone involved in self reflection. The short, scary and exciting answer: following my path.

Have you ever been faced with a choice to travel down a road that may intimidate the hell out of you while simultaneously expanding your sense of self? Almost as if you were being directed to put one foot in front of the other by something greater? For me, this is just one of those times.

Below, I have attached my gear list for one person, 10 days on an Arctic Caribou hunt:

Alaskan Arctic Tundra 10 day, Self-Guided Caribou Hunt

GEAR LIST

Below, you will find an ultralight gear list for one woman on a 10 day, self-guided caribou hunt in the high Arctic of Alaska during the 3rd week of August. (for men, simply remove the women specific items) I will be staying at a remote location where I will already have a safe place to sleep and meals will be provided. Camping and cooking gear is not included on this list for that reason. I will also have access to wash my clothes, at least once if I choose to. Overall weight (minus rifle case) is between 55lbs and 65lbs.

The fool hearty and the cavalier do not prove well against Darwin's Theory in the Arctic of Alaska.

Firmly working hard to avoid being in either of those camps, I am very eager to explore and hunt in the last remaining wilderness of the tundra.

My mother is a tiny bit terrified that I will be attacked and eaten my a grizzly. It's natural to have some degree of fear (especially for your child) but I think a balanced perspective offers more utility.

As far as my poor terrified mother is concerned, being eaten by a bear may just as well be scheduled on my itinerary!

I however, choose to focus on the incredible adventure that lies ahead. I mean, what an amazing opportunity?! Watching the midnight sun, walking in the last great wilderness, seeing with my own eyes, the beauty of arctic wildlife. I can only imagine that an experience like this will likely bust my heart wide open and leave me a changed person forever.

I am keenly aware of the dangers that I cannot wish to control. I can only be as proactive about my own safety as possible while still being able to live my life fully.

Is it possible that something goes sideways while I'm 500 miles from the nearest city? Absolutely.

Is it possible that an enormous Grizzly bear tries to put the moves on me while I prefer a respectful distance? Yup.

Accepting these possibilities allows me to prepare the best way I can and move on to focus on my present moment.

As the clock winds down and my departure approaches, I'd like to publicly ask for your advice, thoughts, comments and questions. I'm sure there are aspects of this trip that I haven't thought of yet. But, perhaps you have!

Asking questions (however dumb) from folks who know far more than I do always pays off. So, what do you think?

If you have expertise in healthcare/ first aid, mountaineering, hunting, butchering, have been to Alsaka or just care to share a comment or ask a question, go for it!

Share what's on your mind, but please keep the hysterical fear to yourself (my mom has plenty of that to go around 😊).

This past June was squirrel hunting season, here in Virginia. Having recently discovered an astonishingly simple recipe for what is easily the best fried "chicken" I have ever had (by "chicken" I mean squirrel) I knew I needed to acquire some squirrels to make it again. Referred to by renowned chefs world wide, squirrel is the unsung hero of traditional Southern cooking and of multilayered Italian cuisine. In this article, I'd like to share with you the process of having a recipe in mind, acquiring the necessary ingredients and having a mind-blowingly delicious meal.

I was recently asked what my "death row" meal would be. I answered without hesitation, "fried chicken". It's one of those meals that is never bad even if it actually is kind of bad. Similar to pizza. Even bad pizza can be strangely satisfying. Because I do not purchase meat from a grocery store, I seldom have an opportunity to enjoy fried chicken. My discovery of this remarkably delicious squirrel substitute has raised the bar considerably for regular fried chicken.

Squirrel has light and dark meat similar to chicken. It has no gamey taste to it whatsoever. There is a delicate rich flavor in squirrel that just isn't there in farm raised chicken.

So here it was, the reason for my hunt and a specific dish that circled through my head as I prepared to stalk my quarry.

I prefer early morning hunts. In this case, squirrel like to get out of their nests and start rustling around the leaf litter, foraging and running up and down trees. Summer also happens to be one of their mating seasons. So as with whitetail deer in the rut, squirrels tend to be a bit distracted.

Stalking quietly is important during any hunt. In the warmer weather, I wear a pair of moccasins that I made out of elk hide with cow hide soles. Their flexible soft design makes for extremely silent footfalls.

As I settle into a spot rich with mature oak trees, I fall silent and still. A short while later, a rustle gets my attention. A squirrel comes into view and gives me an opportunity to place a shot. I use a .22LR rifle for squirrels and aim for their head to preserve as much meat as possible.

Having been graced with a squirrel, I skin, clean and gut it right away, making sure to remove the tiny scent glands at the inside of each wrist. I am told that leaving these on during the cooking process can add an unpleasant flavor.

After butchering the beautiful squirrel into quarters, I brine it overnight in lightly salted water.

While the squirrel is brining, I think back on my time in the woods and am grateful for the bounty it has provided. Then I start to itch. At first just a little and as the evening comes around, a lot.

All animals have their place in the wilderness, including the creepy crawly ones. That said, I struggle to understand exactly what place chiggers, ticks and mosquitoes have besides spreading disease, creating maddeningly itchy spots and making my skin look like that of a kid with chicken pox! The expression goes, "There is no such thing as a free lunch." This time it seems, I paid the price.

These bites were not going to stop me from getting my hands on the Southern fried squirrel that I had so looked forward to.

After the brine, I placed the quartered squirrel in a small pot filled with chicken stock that I had made and canned earlier. I let the squirrel cook in this stock at a low heat for a couple of hours. Squirrels are quite athletic and therefore can be a bit tough. Braising squirrels this way leaves them melt-in-your-mouth tender for any preparation.

After the squirrel is tender, I put them straight into the egg wash then the seasoned flour. Then they go straight into a skillet filled with a generous amount of hot oil (I used coconut oil and loved the crispyness, although avocado oil was recently suggested to me because of its hi-temp cooking quality). After just enough time to crisp all sides to a deep golden brown, finally, it's ready.

When I say that this was the most delicious and satisfying version of fried chicken I had ever eaten, I am not embellishing at all. Plain and simple, the best dish ever. If you don't believe me, try it!

Hunting makes the food that I eat into a personal experience. From one simple recipe, a quiet stalk of an early morning, even crazy itchy chigger bites only serve to deepen the memory of my experience and of my appreciation of the meal that came of it.

As a hunter who hasn't purchased meat from a grocery in more than 3 1/2 years, I can definitively say, access to safe hunting land is gold.

In in the past, my options were limited to crowded public land or permission to be on private land that's located 2 1/2 hours from my home. Private land is way safer and I have a much higher success rate because I'm the only hunter out there. The only problem is the long distance limits the amount of time I can devote to being in the field.

The Virginia Whitetail; a majestic creature to which I owe so much gratitude.

Outdoor Access is a platform that connects private land owners and hunter. More accurately, it's not just for hunters. This program can be used to book private land for all sorts of outdoor uses like hiking, fishing, camping, ATV riding, paintball, picnics etc. That is indeed awesome, but for the purposes of this post, I'm going to stay focused on hunting.

Basically, I go online to www.outdooraccess.com and search for private land near me that meets my needs. For whitetail season in the rut, I may pick one property while Springtime gobbler hunting may require a different location.

Each property comes with topo maps, satellite image and property boundaries so you always know where you are (even when sneaking into the woods during pre-dawn hours).

They require a background check to become a member, but let's face it, that is a wise and necessary precaution.

This season is going to be a whole new ball game. I'm going to have a world of access to fertile hunting grounds closer to home and without competition. Outdoor Access may prove to be the single biggest advantage I have to help me ensure a successful hunting season to fill my freezers this year.

Being someone who has grown up deeply loving the wilderness, it may come as no surprise that I have always wanted to go to Alaska. In fact, I may have stated more than a hand full of times that it is the absolute number one thing I want to do on my "Bucket List". So I have decided, with the loving support of my wife, to go to the last true frontier for an experience that will most certainly leave me, a changed person. Here is an outline of the plan, so far.

During the 3rd week of August, 2015, I will be traveling by myself up to the High Arctic of Alaska to hunt Caribou. That's the plan.

Of course there are a great deal of details involved in organizing a solo caribou hunt in such a remote part of the wilderness and I have been working hard to research and learn all I can about the area and the caribou I will be hunting. I anticipate that all the research in the world is not going to prepare me for what it is actually like on the ground.

I do not want to be cavalier, foolish or naïve on this journey so I am working to be as proactive about my own safety as I can while still moving forward to follow my path. There are three main potential dangers that I may encounter: Grizzly bears, Weather and mechanical injury. There is also a great deal of "letting go" that I must practice regarding the dangers I could potentially face.

I simply can't control the weather. The weather in Alaska, where I will be reports lows at 20 degrees and highs at 60 degrees with storms that can be upon you in minutes and last for a week. That's just the way nature is, and nature is the boss. I have warm layers, lots of merino wool and very heavy duty rain gear.

I will be in the same habitat shared by a high population of inland Grizzly bears. Although, I will have my hunting rifle, I have no intention of harming a bear. Frankly, it would break my heart to have to kill a bear. I will also be bringing bear spray in the hopes of ending conflict without bloodshed (the bear's or mine).

Lastly, mechanical injury can happen to anyone. Because I will be alone, I plan to carry an SOS GPS locator beacon (which I have been referring to as the "save-my-arse" button) to be used to call in a chopper and get me to medical care. I will also have long range, waterproof walkie talkies. I will carry one with me in the field and leave the other at base camp with a volunteer who will listen for my distress call, should things go sideways.

Outside of that, I have put a lot of thought into packing and re-packing my gear, making sure I have the right layers and all the equipment I need for proper meat care if I am so fortunate to harvest a caribou. The rest of this trip is about letting go.

I have no control over the caribou's migration path or where the grizzly bears wander. I have no expectation of harvesting a caribou. If I am given an opportunity to harvest a such a blessing, I will be taking every piece I can home with me.

There are so many wonderful uses for game animals, and it's not just about the meat. For example, I will be using the hide from the forelegs to start working on a pair of winter mukluks. The sinew can be used as very strong thread. The small intestine can be processed to be used as sausage casing. The organ meats like the heart and tongue are absolutely delicious from a deer, so I imagine I will also enjoy them from a caribou. The liver, I save for my trusty three-legged dog, Sydney. He is always found by my side during my backcountry adventures but because of the dangers and long travel distance, he will have to sit this one out. I will also be saving the bones to make stock when I get back home. (see below for my Roasted Bone Stock recipe) As for the antlers and the hide, I will be tanning the hide and using the antlers for knife handles, scrapers and awls.

Roasted Bone Stockseveral bones from a deer, elk, moose or caribou (I usually use the bones from the neck)water3 carrots2 celery stalks6 cloves garlic1 whole small onion2 bay leaveshand full of fresh parsleyteaspoon celery seedsalt and pepper to taste(you will be straining these ingredients out later so there is no need to finely chop anything)

In a roasting pan, put all of the ingredients into a large roasting pan and add enough water to come half way up the side of the roasting pan.Roast at 350 degrees for 3 hours (be sure to check on this regularly and add more water if too much evaporates out.)

After you've finished roasting the ingredients, add all of the contents to a large stock pot. Add water to fill the pot nearly to the top. Bring it to a boil then reduce it to a simmer. Let it simmer at least for a few hours. I generally leave it on a low setting all day while I do other chores.

At the end of it's simmer time, taste and add salt or pepper if needed.

Then strain out all of the liquid into another container. Discard the solid content from the pot.What you are left with is liquid gold! Enjoy!